


It Wasn't in the Cards

by AnonEhouse



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Coulson Lives, Gen, Phil Coulson's Trading Card Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fury and Coulson talk about his ruined trading cards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Wasn't in the Cards

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Nick Fury was seldom at a loss for words, but as the silence stretched on into its third minute by the medical unit clock, he still hadn't found the right ones. Finally he gave up and offered, "I'm sorry, Phil."

Phil Coulson nodded without looking up from the laptop display resting over his lap on the small part of his bedside tray that wasn't full to overflowing with a 'Get Well' bouquet topped by helium-filled Avengers balloons. The display was zoomed in and frozen on Captain America placing a pack of bloodied trading cards in the hands of a very waxen-faced Phil Coulson, laid out in his coffin. Phil said softly, "He signed them 'to my good friend, Phil'. Signed. By Captain America." Phil closed his eyes a moment and made a tiny, hurt noise.

"You had them insured," Fury reminded him. "I'm sure Captain Rogers will be glad to sign the replacements." He paused and then continued, "Once he gets back from his tour of America."

Phil opened his eyes and looked at Fury. Dreamily he said, "Stark arranged for me to be buried in Dolce & Gabbana, custom tailored."

"Yeah. Yeah, your LMD looked great. People commented on how you were so peaceful and all." Fury fidgeted with Phil's uneaten banana pudding, poking the plastic spoon in and twiddling it about. Phil had insisted he take it because Fury was 'looking peaked', which was a lie, Fury never looked peaked in his life.

"Thor promised to name his first child after me." Phil clicked on the laptop and the image changed to one of Thor zapping Chitauri with lightning while clinging to the Chrysler building. "Something about dead warriors serving to protect their namesake. I expect he'll be a little annoyed that I'm not in Valhalla to fulfill my responsibilities."

Fury cleared his throat. "Look, I'll bring the insurance forms and you can dictate."

"I think Barton and Romanov actually got a little bit damp-eyed when they released the butterflies," Phil said in a thoughtful tone of voice. "Imagine that."

"I'll go get the forms right now." Fury set the pudding cup down and started to rise from the designed by sadists hard plastic visitors chair.

Phil shut the computer off and closed the laptop with a decisive snap. "Unfortunately, that won't help. It was such a moving human interest story... Ms. Potts was instrumental in making certain everyone knew that I'd ... what was it... oh, yes, 'stood my ground against a god'." He raised his gaze until he was looking straight at Fury.

"Technically, Loki's an alien." Fury recognized that cool, calm tone. It was the 'As your right-hand man, and your good eye, I feel it my duty to point out that you have FUCKED UP, Director' tone.

"Technically, my insurance company doesn't actually believe in any god. They were greatly saddened to have to deny my claim because, well, 'act of God' is in the fine print, and they _do_ believe in fine print." Phil shifted and picked moodily at the edges of the bandage covering his chest.

"Stop that." Fury slapped lightly at Coulson's hand. "We don't have any more of Captain Rogers' blood to give you if you open your stitches."

Phil sighed. "Do you know why I have approximately three years of accumulated vacation leave?"

"Because you never take leave. Even when I order it. You're lucky SHIELD doesn't force you to forfeit it."

"Yes, Director, I count myself as very fortunate," Phil said. "And the reason I don't take leave?"

"Because you get bored." Fury looked around the white on white confines of the room. "Fine. I will _personally_ haunt Ebay or whatever it takes to get you a replacement set of cards. If necessary, I will even go on bended knee to Stark to get Howard's collection."

"I can only look at a set of cards for so long, Director."

Fury threw his hands up in the air. "I'll throw in a complete set of Captain America comic books."

"Hmmm." Phil smiled. "That would be very nice, Director."

Fury turned to leave. "And don't whine if there's some foxing on the edges. I know what condition your cards were in."

"I know you do. Nick?" Phil said gently.

Fury stopped and turned back. "Yeah, Phil?"

"Whose blood was on the cards?"

Fury glared at Phil for a moment and then his expression softened. "Mine, of course." 

"Thought so," Phil remarked before he closed his eyes. "You're an old softy, Nick."

Fury ran his hand over Phil's head, lightly. "I'm going to tell them to reduce your medication. You're hallucinating, Phil."

Phil smiled without opening his eyes. "I want a Captain America action figure, too."

"Don't push your luck," Nick said. And then he left. He had to organize a search and retrieval mission. For trading cards.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Prompt is here.](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/11264.html?thread=25989888#t25989888)
> 
>  
> 
> _Nick used the cards because he knew Phil had them insured but it doesn't mean Phil's happy about it after he feels better. Okay, so this is totally crack. I just want their conversation to make me laugh._
> 
> _Bonus: "You screwed them up, you get to come up with a reason the insurance company has to pay for them and don't you dare let them use an 'act of god' to avoid it."_


End file.
